A Set Of Fools

The father knew that his eldest son was no good. He called the second son and said, “I want you to stay at the farm and look after the cultivation.”

The second son agreed and settled himself at the farm. The lands belonging to the farm were sown to jinjili seed. It was the sowing season, and the farm hands opened bags of jinjili seed and kept them in readiness.

The landlord’s son, having nothing better to do, began to pick up the seed by the handful and eat them raw. Seeing this, one farmhand asked him not to eat the root raw. He got a small quantity fried by his wife. The improved taste of the fried struck the boy source. He indicated the seed bags and told the farm hands, “Have them fried nicely.”

“What shall we sow?” asked the farm hands.

“Leave that to me,” said the landlord’s son.

According to his wish, a lot of jingle seed was fried in the pans and brought to him.

“Now you sow these in the fields. We will have a tasty jingle coming up. You have been cultivating for years but have always been sowing raw and growing raw seeds. You are ignorant fools.”

The farmhands were shocked. They ran to the landlord and informed him what had happened. The landlord cursed his idiot son and called him back. He then called forth his third son and asked him to take charge of the dairy farm and manage it.

The third son began to get acquainted with the running of the dairy farm. One day he had a brilliant idea. He called to him all the milkers and said, “Look, fellows. In another month, there will be Pongal and a great demand for milk. Let us stop milking the cattle from now on. On the eve of Pongal, we can take a lot of milk from the cattle and make huge profits.”

Some milkers giggled at this foolish idea of their young master, but the others preserved their dignity as they said, “Sir, it is not feasible.”

The young master got infuriated and said. “Do as I tell you.” I am the master here.”

So the cattle were not milked for a whole month and consequently dried up. The milkers went to their old master and told him what had happened.

The landlord called back his third son in disgust. Now all his hopes were pinned on the youngest boy. This boy not only appeared cleverer than his other brothers, but he even made fun of their intelligence or the want of it.

This time the landlord did not want to commit the mistake of entrusting his son with a set job. On the other hand, he asked his son, “What would you like to do best?”

“Father, I want to do business,” said the youngest son.

“Good! Take a couple of thousand rupees with you and engage yourself in business,” his father said.

With this money, the young fellow wanted to buy something precious. He came across a large store of sandalwood and bought it up. He put it in a cart and went from village to village. He was surprised to find that no one needed sandalwood in bulk. After touring several villages without disposing of his stuff, he asked a villager, “What goods are needed in this village most?”

Brother, there is no charcoal here. If you have some, you can sell it readily,” the villager replied.

“Well, charcoal it shall be,” said the boy. He got up a massive fire, converted his entire stock of sandalwood into charcoal, and sold it for ten rupees.

“At last, I am rid of the stuff. Let me buy something else,” he said to himself.

He learnt that cotton was available in that village profusely. Almost every house had a store of it. The young merchant went around the town and bought the cheapest cotton with the ten rupees he had on hand. He dumped this cotton in his cart and started for another village.

He wandered over several villages, but no one appeared to be anxious to buy his cotton at any price. Whoever looked at it said, “But this stuff is so impure! We don’t want it!”

He did not know anything about cotton or the process of purifying it. One noon he got down from the cart and sought shelter on a veranda. It was so hot, and he was very much tired.

In one corner of this veranda, he found a goldsmith sitting before a fire pot and blowing it up with an iron tube.

“Friend, what are you doing?” the boy asked the goldsmith.

“I am purifying gold,” the goldsmith said. He also explained to the boy how the impurities could be taken away by heating gold.

The boy’s spirits were at once roused. Now he knew what to do with his impure cotton! He could purify it! At once, he went to his lodge, got a giant pit filled with burning coals and dumped his cotton in it.

And that was the end of the boy’s trade and his father’s hopes for his sons.

Chandamama October 1955 | T R Bhargava